Page 16 of All of Him
“We need to make a comprehensive plan,” Dad started, looking around the room. He wanted to get down to business, probably to forget that his daughter had shown up for house work with her hair down and mascara on. “Now, I want to start outside but…what in the hell happened to that fireplace?”
I watched Noah’s eyes get wide and his cheeks turn red, and then I looked at the mantel in the large living room.
“I don’t know how I missed how bad it was before.”
Dad wandered over to the kelly-green fireplace.
It was possibly the worst paint job I’d ever seen, not that painted brick made sense that often anyway. I bit my lip and turned to Noah again, who was rubbing the back of his neck and shaking his head.
“No idea, sir,” he choked out. “Will that come off?”
Dad nodded but raised his eyebrows. He continued to inspect it, as if he’d never seen anything like it before. It was hideous.
“Were youhighwhen you did that?” I joked quietly.
“Jameson,” Noah whispered back.
I tried not to laugh and followed Dad into the kitchen.
“It’ll come off.” He chuckled. “But it won’t be easy or fun. I’d honestly rather take wallpaper off.”
Noah shook his head regrettably and leaned against the old, yellowed fridge. I wasn’t sure Dad knew he was lying about the fireplace, but it didn’t matter. Noah would be the one doingthatjob.
For a couple of hours, the three of us went from to room, making a long list of things that needed to be done. Dad wrote down cost estimates and all the materials along with a general timeline. Without setbacks, it would take until early to mid-December.
I wondered shamelessly if I could form an honest friendship with Noah before then and maybe find out the reason for the darkness in those eyes. The thought excited me, though I had to tread carefully. He did not seem open to sharing his life story.
“So, we’ll start with painting the house itself,” Dad explained, his mouth full of turkey sub.
Noah nodded, chewing his own sandwich, as we sat at the wobbly, cluttered kitchen table, eating our first lunch together as a working group. I’d expected it to be awkward with my recent encounter with Noah at work, but my dad’s attempts at conversation saved it.
I’d tried to avoid Noah all morning, but it was hard to ignore the way his biceps peeked out from the bottom of his shirt sleeves and the way his backward baseball cap let some hair through the front. We didn’t speak to each other, but I didn’t feel tension. With my dad there, going through all the details, it felt like work.
“I was thinking Colonial blue with black shutters and white porch railings,” Noah said between bites. He kept his eyes on Dad and never once looked in my direction.
“That sounds nice,” I commented.
Noah’s eyes shifted to me for a split second, but he went right back to ignoring my existence.
“It does,” Dad responded. “Say, Noah, how strong do you think you are on a one to ten scale? Just so I know what I’m working with, labor-wise.”
I glanced at his biceps again, blushing. They weren’t big, but they were still well defined. I wondered what was under his shirt, then visualized smacking myself in the face for even thinking that.
“Um,” Noah started, obviously uncomfortable with the question. “An eight maybe? I haven’t lifted much, but I have been running.”
There was an awkward pause, and Dad sat back in his chair, folding his arms.
“I feel like you aren’t being honest,” Dad said, though not angry.
Noah clenched his jaw and shrugged.
“I can’t do much with my right shoulder,” he admitted. “I had surgery on it last year.”
“That’s fine.” Dad waved the confession away. “I just don’t want you hurting yourself. I asked because I saw that scar.”
Noah froze like a deer in headlights, and I looked at what my dad was talking about.
There was a thick line of scar tissue on the inside of Noah’s inner upper arm. It was mostly covered by his shirt, and I wondered how far up it went. I wasn’t sure how I’d missed it, to be honest, just like I had with his cheek. I had probably just been too busy drooling over his biceps. After a few seconds of silence, Noah dropped his hands to his sides, trying to hide what we’d both already seen.
